Dances with Snakes
by Captain-Holland
Summary: Harry goes back in time to change the seemingly inevitable future by raising the child that would become the Darkest wizard of this age and the murderer of his parents. But sometimes the future cannot be altered and maybe it was a lost cause from the beginning... However, no one ever said that it was going to be easy. Harry & kid!Tom Riddle.
1. Prologue

**Hi! English isn't my first language, so there could be some mistakes in here. **

**Basically, this is one of those time travelling stories in which Harry goes back in time to raise Tom Riddle. There will be a lot of angst in here, but also some fluff and family feels. There is also occasionally some humor, too. I'll try to keep both Harry and Tom IC, but it could be that they are sometimes a bit OOC. **

**I hope you will enjoy it, given that I'm not exactly the best writer in the world and such. Tips and suggestions are definitely welcome, flames not. Don't like, don't read. **

* * *

Everytime Harry closed his eyes he could see professor Dumbledore fall again. And hear it too - a soft rustle of clothing when his mentor slowly fell backwards over the cold stones of the tower. And before that the quiet begging directed at Snape.

Harry fumed when he thought about that and clenched his fists. From the corner of his eye he could see Ginny looking at him while the tears streamed down her freckled face. He was tempted to brush them away and draw het into an embrace, but he refrained from doing that at the last moment. He was almost mad with grief and anger himself and he knew that Ginny would sense it and only get more worried about him.

Yes, they all worried about him. Ginny, Ron, Hermione. Dumbledore had worried about him constantly and look how that had worked out for him. It almost seemed that that was their destiny; to die horribly, all because of him.

Harry unclenched his fists when the funeral was over and stood up. He ignored the looks of his friends and mumbled that he wanted to go on a walk for a bit. Alone.

He slowly made his way through the row of people who all had come to pay the last respects to the man who was definitely one of the greatest wizards of all time. But almost none of them, not even Harry, had ever truly known Albus Dumbledore.

And now he's locked up in a white tomb. Cold and alone. His wisdom forever closed off for the outside world.

Harry tried the swallow the lump in his throat away, but it hurt to much. Tears were burning in his eyes so he kept his head low to shield them from everyone. He quikened his pace when the rows of people seemed to go on endlessly and finally he reached the back of the crowd. He let go of a breath he did not know he was holding in and let the tears stream down his face. His fists were clenched again by the time he reached the tree by the lake where he always used to sit with his friends. He sat down behind the tree, so he would be blocked from view.

The Giant Squid was dozing in the sun in the middle of the lake and for a moment Harry wished the two of them could trade places. Hell, he would like to be anyone but himself for once. Of all the people on the planet he had to be the Chosen One. A title and role he did not ask for when he came into this world as a baby. All he ever wanted was to be normal. But Harry had to face reality and accept that he wasn't normal at all and that would never change, no matter how hard he wished.

"He won't get away with this, professor," he said quietly to a patch of grass by his feet.

"You trusted him but he killed you without blinking an eye. Guess you weren't that smart after all, were you now?"

His voice trembled with emotion, but he ignored it. There wasn't anyone around. For just a moment he was alone in the world.

"You always tried to see the good in people, but it turned out to be the end of you. All because of your sentiment and trusted Snape, you trusted Wormtail and you even trusted Voldemort. If only you killed Tom Riddle before he became what he now is. Then all this pain and suffering in the world would have never become reality. And you and my parents would still be alive."

Harry became silent again when he heard people approaching. He quickly brushed away all the remaining tears and tried to smooth down his forever unruly hair and gave up after a few seconds.

"Harry."

Harry blinked and looked up at the face of professor McGonagall. Her piercing eyes were softened as she looked down at him through her glasses and Harry averted her eyes, afraid that he would start crying again at the slightest provacation.

"I know that you are absolutely not in the mood to talk about him right now, but-"

She breathed in through her nose and Harry discovered to his embarrassment that there were tears gleaming in her eyes as well.

"Albus - Professor Dumbledore - had a proposition for you. If something were to happen to him I had to immediately inform you of this. But I thought it would be better to wait until after the funeral. Again, I know that this is an extremely poor choice of time, but it is urgent. Will you follow me to Professor Dumbledore's chambers?"

"I- Okay. If it's urgent, then... Yes."

Harry did not know what to think of all this as he followed Professor McGonagall to the castle while he felt hundreds of eyes following his every move. He already knew that Dumbledore had a plan and what he wanted Harry to do. So what was all this about?

Whatever Harry thought at that time, it was definitely not this. But here he was: London in 1927, standing in the rain before Wool's Orphanage with a piece of paper in his left hand and a suitcase in the other and his head spinning with doubts and above all: revenge.


	2. The little orphan

It all had happened so fast. Never had Harry thought that _this_ could have been an option. However, that was completely understandable given that even just thinking about it was plain ridiculous. Harry didn't exactly have warm memories to travelling through time. Yes, it was mindblowing and it could be used for some very good causes, but it was very tiresome to constantly having to make sure that no one saw you. Then again, all Time-Turners were rendered useless after the battle in the Department of Mysteries in the Ministry of Magic, so the thought of once again going back in time had never even crossed Harry's mind. Yet here he was, in the pouring rain, looking for the second time at the building where the boy who would become Lord Voldemort was born. The last time he was there everything was a bit foggy, because it was of course the memory of Dumledore and even _his_ memories had gotten a bit misty over time. Now everything was as clear as the water that fell from the sky because he now was really _there_ in person.

The whole thing was so surreal that it just had to be real. Harry had agreed to all of this after all, for some kind of reason he was now slowly forgetting. He can still clearly see Professor McGonnagal sitting behind Dumbledore's desk looking at him over her thin glasses. She talked to him about this plan Dumbledore had had shortly before he died on the highest tower of Hogwarts. A plan less devastating than looking for Horcruxes and destorying them before facing Voldemort for the very last time. Yet it was a plan that was so absurd that Harry had first thought that Professor McGonnagol was making some sort of weird joke. He had quickly dismissed that thought when she gave him a suitcase full with clothes, muggle money and all kinds of papers.

All in all: from the contents of the suitcase Harry could easily figure out that Dumbledore wanted him to go somewhere where muggles lived. But where and why? Did he had to leave already to look for the Horcruxes? What had been on his mentor's mind the last few weeks before he died? And why did Harry only hear about it _now_ after all they had been through with getting that fake Horcrux from the cave that had signalled Dumbledore's doom?

Harry had felt like he was in some kind of spy movie when he saw a fake muggle ID with his photo on it. How Dumbledore had gotten that picture when Harry himself couldn't remember it being taken was slightly disturbing. What was even more confusing was that it looked like a very old ID at that. Nothing like that was used in this time.  
And then he hadn't even mentioned the fake last name that stood on the ID. He stared and felt a steady feeling of dread coming down on him.

_"You don't have to do this, Harry. You really don't. I'm only telling you about this because Professor Dumbledore wanted me to if something happened to him. I can't stress enough how much I am against it, especially because he wants/em you emto do it of all people. After all you have been through! Never mind the fact that you don't even have time to think about it because you have to leave within ten minutes/em if em you even want to go and- and do this. I'm so sorry, Harry. So very sorry."_

Harry sighed and took the steps to the orphange door slowly. He wasn't ready for this. He wasn't fooling anyone. But it all doesn't matter; he simply _has_ to do this. No one else could sacrifice literally decades of their lives to a lost cause like this. And Merlin knew Harry didn't want to do this. Oh no, he was almost sick with rage and nervousness for an infant that was only a few weeks old now. An infant. It didn't matter now what that child would later become; it was his task to prevent it from ever happening at all. However, now he was actually here, it all seemed obvious. Why waste years upon years on - on _raising a child_ when it could all end here this very day? It wasn't very brave and it was definitely wrong, but - why not? One kill to save dozens. The end justifies the means. Maybe Grindelwald was right in a way after all.

Harry looked down at his soaked muggle cloathes. He was wearing a cheap grey suit that made him look responsible and mature enough to raise his 'nephew' on his own, being the only family the little Tom had left. In present day Harry would have never gotten the child, but these were very different times. It was the interbellum between two world wars, even though no one yet knew about the threat that was to come in just a matter of years.

Harry shuddered and knocked three times hard on the door.

* * *

"Lucy! Lucy, dammit, shut those children up! We have a bloody guest, we can't have 'im think we're Neanderthals!"

It seemed as if the voice carried through the whole building. A thin girl with pale green eyes jumped and scarried off through a door, undoubtly to carry out Mrs. Cole's orders. Harry pitied her for a second before hurrying after Mrs. Cole, who was already halfway up the stairs, still talking away at him as if they were lifelong friends.

"...and that girl was no beauty, bless her soul in the Holy Heaven above us. I hope with her that that child takes after his father, because no little child deserves to look like that poor girl... She named 'im Tom, by the way. Tom Marvolo Riddle. Most ugly name I ever heard, but well. It was her last wish, so fine. It's not my child. Poor thing though; it is always sad when they get orphaned at such a young age. But I'm glad that he already has found a new home with you, sir."

Harry simply nodded along and stayed silent. He was tempted to point out that he did not think she really cared about where the children went, as long as she had one less child to take care of. He couldn't really blame her though; it was difficult to raise so many parentless children with the little money she had. At least she looked after them, where someone else would have looked away.

Each time they arrived at a new floor his heart sank to his stomach out of fear they had arrived already. It was really laughable that he was so afraid to see a baby that at this age was so vulnerable and innocent. It was even more laughable to think about those two words in the same sentence with Tom Riddle, the future killer of his parents.

_It's going to end today, remember. You take Tom outside to some quiet place and - just kill him in a painless way. He would get a much better ending than his future victims._

But... wasn't that the problem? It was a bit like that story of going back in time to beat up your bully when he was still a harmless child for deeds he did not do at that time. With other words; the bully was innocent at that point, and still a little child at that. So would you? Go back in time to hurt the person that hurts you so much in the present?  
Would you?

"We're here, at last. Al lot of the babes are on the top floor, because their crying disturbs the other children too much. Don't worry though; most of the time I'm with them, and if not, than Susie is there. Come on in, mister Riddle."

Harry clenched his teeth at hearing himself being addressed like that, but again he remained quiet when he steppedafter Mrs. Cole into the room. The room consisted of the whole attic without any walls. There were cobwebs hanging from the ceiling and Harry had to cough a little when he breathed in a little too much dust. He rapidly blinked and his eyes shot from crib to crib. His mouth had gone as dry as a desert and his hands were shaking slightly. This was actually happening. This wasn't a dream. This wasn't a nightmare. It was reality and there was no going back now.

"'Ere he is, the little chum. He is already a lot more handsome than his mum, that's for sure. And so well behaved! He almost doesn't cry, this one."

Mrs. Cole beckoned Harry with a crooked smile and he unwillingly shuffled a bit forward until he realised what he was doing and then crossed the remaining distance with a few large strides.

Harry looked inside. He had expected everything but what he saw and felt at the moment he laid his eyes on the small child below him.

His scar didn't hurt, for one. He had been kinda expecting for that to happen, but he didn't even feel a tingle of acknowledgement. Harry instinctively reached to his forehead with his fingers and almost jumped with surprise when he didn't feel anything but smooth skin.

_That... must mean that I am really actually_ here, _and not just travelling through the past. Everything that happened in the future doesn't exist right now except for myself. How can I be here when even my grandparents maybe weren't even born yet? Had that been part of that spell that Professor McGonnagal had put on him before she sent him away_?

Harry's thoughts were racing through his mind when he looked down again and saw baby Tom for the second time. He looked so... different than Harry was used to. Tom was definitely one of the more better looking babies that Harry had ever seen, but there was no trace yet of the sly looking Tom Riddle that he knew from Dumbledore's memory and that time he fought against the Basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets. He was just... normal looking. There were no devil's ears growing out of the child's thin, short hair as a small part of Harry had childishly expected. Nothing out of the ordinary. And yet... Mrs. Cole was right. Tom was awfully quiet as he lay there in his crib, with his little fists raised above him in his sleep. He lay very still with the exception of his raising belly as he breathed calmly without a single care in the world.

_He is still a baby. A sleeping one too at that. No baby made much noise as it slept. And yet..._

"Cute little one he is, huh? Now, let's sign the papers and get on with it. I'll have to make lunch soon. The children go nuts when they don't get their bloody food on time. And right they are."

Harry licked his dry lips as he absentmindedly handed over the papers that had been forged by Professor Dumbledore to look like legitimate proof that he, Harry Riddle, was really an uncle of Tom Riddle and the only family he had left. The papers also stated that Harry would become Tom's legal father. For some reason Dumbledore thought it very important that Harry would not only become family of Tom, but his _father_ at that. Harry wanted to laugh and cry at the same time when he thought about the surreal idea of him being a father and out of all the people in the world being the father of _Voldemort._

Mrs. Cole quickly went through all the necessary signing without really reading anything on the papers. She had of course been through this kind of thing a lot of times, and she perhaps also didn't really care if the papers were a hunderd percent right or not. One of her orphans found a home and that was the most important thing.

Finally Harry signed with a shaking hand and then suddenly became the legal adoptive father of Tom Marvolo Riddle.

"Congratulations, Mr. Riddle! I'm sure Tom is going to grow up to be a fine young man! Now, you can pick 'im up right away and leave as you please. You can of course keep the blanket we've put around him. All the best!"

_You should know just what a fine young man he would become, Mrs. Cole._

"Thank you," Harry said with a raspy voice as he slowly reached inside the crib and carefully picked up the baby. He was heavier than Harry would expect of a baby, but it felt right. Without really thinking he placed Tom's head against his shoulder and held him up with one hand under his bottom and one hand on his bank. The blanket was still fitted snugly around the sleeping child, even when it moved slightly at the change of surroundings. After a deep sigh the baby grasped Harry's suit in his tiny fist and slept peacefully on.

Harry released a breath he did not realise he was holding in.

"Goodbye, Mrs. Cole."

After these words he quickly left and descended as fast as he could before pushing open the door and breathing in the fresh air. Harry froze when Tom shifted a little, but again the child did not wake and kept on sleeping, not really caring where he was as long as he had his blanket and something to lean against.

Harry swallowed his nausea away and took a few trembling steps away from the Orphanage. He made the promise to himself that he would never return to that dreadful place.

Little did he know that he would not be able to keep that promise.

* * *

Comments etc. are much appreciated! Please let me know what you think. Suggestions are also welcome.


	3. A new home

It's really funny how life could go sometimes. One day you're a student at a school for magical children and the next day a father of a baby that would grow up to be the Darkest wizard ever.

Yes. Harry supposed it sounded very hilarious when he spun the thought around in his mind, but when it's _you _that has to go through all that it suddenly sounded pretty grim.

With Tom held against his shoulder and his other hand holding the suitcase with the little possessions he had left, Harry crossed the street and hurried off. He wasn't exactly familiar with 1920's London, but he had received directions to his new home where he was to raise Tom for the next few years. With '_few'_ actually meaning the whole of Tom's childhood and after that as long as was necessary to be sure that Tom would not follow the dark path but the good one. Assuming that there even _was_ such a path that Tom could take. That was one of the many risks that was attached to this (Mission? Quest?) and that Harry had to figure out along the way.

Harry got startled when Tom suddenly made a loud noise in his arms and he stopped on the sidewalk to maneuver the baby in his arms so he could look at his tiny face. He almost dropped him when wise grey eyes blinked up at him.

_His eyes. Those are his eyes. Could he recognize me? Does he know who I am? Or no; who I would become?_

Immediately Harry pushed away those crazy thoughts. By the minute he was growing more paranoid and hostile against Tom, which was of course just plain ridiculous. Tom knew nothing. He was only a few weeks old and probably could only think very basic thoughts at this point.

_What if he's hungry? Or- Oh no, this whole deal involves changing his diapers too, right?_

Harry felt like cursing but decided against it in the presence of a baby. Voldemort or not, it was still… inappropriate.

Tom didn't make any further noises, so Harry pressed him against his shoulder again and began walking. The house wasn't really far from the Orphanage – it was in the same poor neighborhood close to the city's centre. Professor McGonnagal already warned him that his living conditions weren't really going to be the best, but at least it wouldn't be as bad as a miner's cottage; Harry was going to live in a slightly bigger house than that with two upstairs bedrooms and even a little garden behind the house. Maybe he could grow vegetables. Or Tom could play outside in the sand when he would be a little older. All very comforting and pleasant ideas.

_Yeah, killing Tom was off the record again_, thought Harry as he walked past a old couple in shabby clothing that looked him up and down for a second before dismissing him and going back to their own troubled thoughts. _ If there is only the slightest possibility that this will work, I will have to do it. I _am _going to do it. It's not going to be easy and I will throw away a large chunk of my life trying to do this, so I might as well give all I have. If this can save people – prevent them from dying – than I'll do it. I will._

Harry tried to ignore little hands groping his suit jacket and his ear when he at last turned a corner and saw a battered sign that said 'St. Michael's street' on the wooden plank that pointed to the right. Harry followed the sign and felt his heart sank down to his stomach when he saw the state the street was in. It was hard to imagine that it could have been worse.

The street was poorly paved with cobblestones that stuck unevenly out of the ground. A couple of boys of about eight years old with dirt smudges on their faces and clothes were chasing each other loudly with tree branches. They almost knocked Harry to the ground when they sped past him.

A woman whose age Harry couldn't really guess was washing clothes in a wooden tub, but the water was so filthy that they didn't really seem to improve. Yet, she was scrubbing so hard that most of the stains in the clothing magically seemed to disappear. Harry quickly nodded at her when she looked up and spotted him. She stood up and wiped a wet hand over her sweaty forehead and blinked at him. Her hair was a brownish red and her clear blue eyes seemed to be able to look straight through him. Her dress was old and you could clearly see several places where the fabric was sewn together after being torn, but it was clean. She could be around thirty, but it was hard to say with the early wrinkles that got only more pronounced when she frowned at him. Harry suddenly realized he had been staring and got a bit flustered.

"Excuse me, ma'am, I didn't mean to be rude. My name is Harry P- Er, Riddle, and I'll be your new neighbor, I guess. Oh, and this here is Tom… My son. We'll be living in number 9. Do you know where it is?"

_I'm such an idiot. Why can't I say things in a normal way without stumbling over my words? Great. Fantastic. And this is only day one. _

To Harry's surprise her face softened and instead of ignoring him or yelling she responded softly:

"Good day to you, sir. Me name is Ellen Williams. I live 'ere with me children and husband. Your house is over there, with the broken window. One of me boys threw it in, I'm afraid."

Harry followed her pointed finger and saw a little house that resembled all the others in the street. One of the front windows was indeed broken, but apart from that it looked quite all right to him.

"Oh, that's okay. I will have to fix that sometime. Thank you for your help."

"No problem, dear. If you don't mind me probing… Can I have a look at your boy? It's already been a few years since I had one meself and I really love 'em."

Harry hesitated for a second before walking to Ellen and handing over Tom. A strange feeling surged through him when he removed the warm baby from his chest and let him be taken from him. Ellen obviously held a baby before, so it wasn't like Harry was afraid she would drop him or anything. But still… He couldn't really place the hollow feeling in his chest and he felt strangely restless as he watched Ellen cooing down at Tom. Said Tom looked up at Ellen's face and Harry could have _sworn_ that he had a look of dismay on his little face upon seeing her.

_He doesn't look at me like that. Does that mean that he likes me? How odd is that. I never thought I would live to see the day that Voldemort would be glad to see me. But then again, he's just a baby now. _

"What a lovely little fella. And such beautiful eyes he has. He looks like you, sir."

_I doubt that, _Harry wanted to say, but instead he went with: "Yes. He kind of does."

It wasn't the first nor the last time Harry got compared with Voldemort, but it was strange to hear it in this context and also from a Muggle at that.

Ellen smile grew when Tom started thrashing his tiny arms around, displeased by something. Harry could see that Ellen was missing a few teeth. Despite that and her wrinkles, she had definitely been a pretty woman once. Hard labor and stress must've changed her to the tired, but strong woman she now was.

Harry automatically stretched out his arms when Tom suddenly let out a loud wail and Ellen handed Tom over again. Once in Harry's arms Tom got calm again and stared at him for a second with those strange eyes of his. It was strange to not see any coldness in Tom's gaze and Harry stared back at him, a bit confused. Then the moment was broken and Tom closed his eyes and seemed to drift off to sleep again.

Ellen did not seem to have noticed anything strange between them and was still smiling a little. Then she picked up a shirt off the ground and bend over the tub again. Harry got the message and thanked her a second time before heading off across the street to where his house was.

Now closer to it, Harry saw the old wooden front door and a short sandy path to it. A few bushes shielded the windows partially for nosy neighbors and he could see that there were still some glass shards hanging on the window frame, as if they were holding on for dear life and refusing to fall off.

_One Reparo could repair it. But I'm supposed to use as little magic as possible, and especially not something so obvious like this. I would think it strange too if a sixteen-year-old with a baby could get a new window that fast. _

Harry stopped at the door and suddenly realized he had no key. But upon closer inspection he saw that that wasn't necessary; he just needed to turn the knob and he was inside. He should've known this. Cheap houses like this didn't have doors that could be locked. In a neighborhood like this, people just walked inside each other houses if they wanted to chat or if they needed anything. Nobody has really anything that is worth stealing because no one can _afford_ anything affordable. It was just all about survival here. No luxury, but just barely enough food on the table each day. This was what his life was going to be and he just had to accept that.

That raised another problem for Harry; Soon his Muggle money would be completely spend and he would have to find a job. But where? In times like this, just after the First World War, would he be able to find a job that would be enough to be able to take care of himself and Tom? And speaking of Tom – where was Harry going to be leaving him when he would be at work? They didn't have any daycares at this point of time, or did they? If so, then he would have to find one of those too. But it had to be a safe one. Preferably only with only women and no men. He really wouldn't be comfortable with that.

_Oh, wait. That shouldn't be a problem. It's unlikely that in this time a man would be doing a job considered to be solely for women and vice versa. I really wasn't prepared to be thrown in this point of time barely knowing what I was getting into. _

Dumbledore thought he could do it, though. Otherwise he would've never let him do this. Would he? Harry probably just had to figure everything out on his own, piece by piece. That really sounded like something his late mentor would let him do.

A lump formed in his throat when he thought of his Professor with the long hair and beard and the twinkling eyes above his golden glasses and his hands pressed together at the tips. If Harry closed his eyes he saw him perfectly, sitting behind his desk with Fawkes the Phoenix besides him. Now he was buried inside a white tomb and his seat was handed over to Professor McGonnagal.

The image of Dumbledore disappeared from his mind and instead he saw an empty room with no sign of Fawkes either. Harry opened his eyes again and put the suitcase on the ground before finally opening the door and walking in.

It was a small open room with the living room and kitchen combined. Right in front of him a narrow wooden staircase lead upstairs and on his right, by the broken window, was a small shapeless couch and a unstable little table. A fireplace stood beside it, which Harry was glad to see. For as long as the window wasn't repaired he and Tom at least wouldn't freeze to death. A thin curtain could be shoved in front of the window, but that wouldn't really help much with keeping the cold out.

The kitchen wasn't really special. Neither was the table squeezed into the small room with four chairs by it. However, this was his home now and he had to learn to accept it. At least his living space was improved from his cabinet under the staircase.

Harry glanced a last time at the room before going up the very creaky staircase to the top floor. He arrived at a small hallway with one door at each side. At the top end of the hallway was a narrow window with a view to the garden behind the house.

Harry carefully put his suitcase down again for the second time and opened each door. They both led to a very small and narrow bedroom. The left one seemed slightly bigger so that's where he went in with his stuff and Tom. He could barely walk since most of the room was occupied by a old bed and a closet beside it. Harry suddenly became aware of how tired he was. It was strange that just a few hours ago he was still at Hogwarts attending the funeral of Dumbledore. Never would he have expected to be here. Alone, without Ron and Hermione, and with the care over baby Voldemort pressing hard on his shoulders and sanity. Harry was tired, confused, angry and sad all at the same time. The thought of closing his eyes even for just a moment really appealed to him right now.

Placing his suitcase on the ground Harry carefully placed the sleeping Tom on the bed and shrugged his suit jacket off. He picked Tom up again and crawled on the bed while toeing of his shoes. He placed Tom beside him on the bed and held a arm around him so he wouldn't accidentally roll off the bed in his sleep. Maybe it would safe Harry a lot of trouble if he really _did _ fell off and broke his neck, but that thought only brought disgust now. Instead, he lay a protecting hand over the small back of the baby and looked at his sleeping form for a moment with mixed feelings he couldn't quite place. Slowly Harry's eyes fell shut and he drifted off in a restless sleep.


	4. A nasty surprise

All Harry asked for was a few hours of blissful sleep without having to think about the big problem that was Tom Marvolo Riddle, sleeping beside him, sharing the bed with him. Just that fact would be about horrifying enough for _anyone, _but then there was also that tiny little detail involved that said Tom Riddle, future Dark Lord, was just a baby now. Arguably better than the grown-up version, but this was just a whole other level of terrifying.

A few hours of rest, nothing more nothing less. Of course, Harry's life has never been easy, and it was definitely not planning on making things better for him anytime soon.

That's why Harry woke up with a start after what felt as just a few minutes of sleep, with a tiny fist planted firmly on his nose.

With a startled yell Harry shot up in bed, clutching his nose. That seemed like a very wise thing to do for another reason entirely, given that slowly but surely he could sense a very unpleasant smell coming from within the thin blanket that was wrapped around Tom. Said baby was still whirling his fists around in the air and his feet tried to join them from underneath the tightly wrapped fabric. He wasn't crying – thankfully – but he definitely was not happy with the state he was in now.

Harry didn't know what to do. Well, no. He knew of course that Tom needed a change of diapers, which was quite obvious. But the child was probably hungry too. When was the last time he ate in the Orphanage? How much milk did he need? Where could Harry buy said milk, and other things he would need to take care of a baby? He couldn't just walk into a shop with a screaming smelling baby in his arms, could he? Leaving Tom here was no option and taking him with Harry also didn't sound like a very good idea.

Harry's stomach turned and twisted and he felt a slow rise of panic rising inside of him. How the bloody hell could he have thought he could do this? He knew _nothing_ about babies or children in general. He was just a skinny boy of sixteen who already had everyone's eyes on him when he was just a baby himself. Everyone thought Harry was capable of doing the impossible, no matter what it was. But now he didn't even know how to keep a baby alive for longer than a few days.

_Fool, fool, fool! Why did I just jump into this without being prepared? Without even talking to Ron and Hermione about all this? Hermione would've told me that I couldn't do it, both emotionally and rationally. Ron would've – I don't know, but it most likely wouldn't be anything positive either. I just – how could McGonnagal let me do this? And why did Dumbledore wanted me to do _this _instead of hunting down all of the Horcruxes and finally facing down Voldemort? Did he change his mind the last second and did he decide I wasn't strong enough for that quest without him to guide me? But how could he possibly think that raising the child that would become my parents' murderer would be a better alternative for all parties involved?_

Harry felt even more tired and drained than before he went to sleep. His hands were shaking when he lifted them to his temples in an effort to calm himself down.

There was no going back. He made what was very likely the wrong mistake by coming here but there was absolutely nothing he could do about it. He couldn't go back to his own time. It was _him _who made the impulsive decision to jump into this without considering it first for a while. Impulsive and stupid. Harry truly did not understand why fate made _him _the Chosen One.

Finally coming to a decision after what felt like hours, he lifted the miserable Tom off of the bed and walked downstairs without bothering putting his shoes back on first. It was just a short walk anyway, and it was not like the people here would look strange if they saw a boy walking on nothing but socks in this neighbourhood.

* * *

To make a long story short; Ellen was an angel. No doubt about it.

There he was, just a short while after their first meeting, on her doorstep. One of the boys he had seen waving sticks around on the street earlier had opened the door and had let him in after assurance from his mother that it was alright. Ellen's eyes had taken in Harry with the ever screaming Tom in his arms and had immediately taken over.

With her youngest child still needing diapers, Ellen had all the supplies ready to change Tom's diaper – or cloth, which was a much better term – and after being wrapped in a clean piece of cloth Tom finally had calmed down a little. Harry's fears were grounded when it became obvious the baby was incredibly hungry, but Ellen simply warmed up a little bit of milk on the stove and gave it Tom with a small spoon. Harry did not know how to thank Ellen enough, but the woman with the worn face had just smiled at him and said it was nothing.

Of course, it was not nothing. But for Ellen this was just a small favor which she gladly did for him even though she had only known him for a few hours. It truly was incredibly humbling to Harry to see how gladly the people here wanted to help each other with the little they had. They were born into poverty and would die in poverty. But they were all so happy with what they _did _have, and Harry got a lump in his throat as he saw how lovingly Ellen looked at her children. It was a look that he could not remember from his own parents.

Harry had turned his head away then, so he wouldn't have to explain why his eyes suddenly became so shiny.

* * *

The sun was well down when Ellen's husband Jack and three of her oldest sons came back from work. They all looked very tired when they took place at the table for dinner, but they each nodded at Harry as if it wasn't unusual that there was a stranger with a baby eating with them. Jack talked about his workday and the news he had heard there. One of the more concerning things Jack told was that tensions had risen again in Germany. Harry had to chew hard on his dry potatoes to refrain himself from saying anything as he listened. It was very tempting to warn them there was another, even more destructive war coming soon, but they wouldn't believe him anyway. Besides, no one would want to hear such horrible news.

"So," Jack said finally after all the eleven plates were scraped empty and the children had run off in various directions. "Who are you and the little one, then?"

Jack was a big guy with broad shoulders. It was clear that his job involved a lot of heavy lifting. He had dark eyes and a constant serious expression on his face, but Harry could clearly see that he was a good, honest man. Harry was relieved to see that Ellen's husband wasn't some brute who would hit his wife and children. It wouldn't be exactly unusual in this part of town, but at least Harry hadn't found himself another Dursley family. Or worse.

Harry carefully took a sip of his cup while glancing at the other side of the room where Tom lay sleeping besides Ellen's youngest child who was about four.

"My name is Harry Riddle. And that is my son, Tom. We just moved in here in the street." Harry shrugged his shoulders helplessly and decided to tell the truth. Well, only a part of it, of course.

"I don't have any family left. His mother died in childbirth, so I'm raising him on his own now. I cannot thank your wife enough for helping me with him. She told me everything I need to know to take good care of him, and I don't think we could've survived very long without her help. Also, I'm very grateful I could join you for dinner tonight. I assure you it won't be a daily thing; I will cook for myself from here on out."

Jack nodded a little and looked at Harry for a few seconds. Then he said:

"I wasn't that much older than you when I became a father for the first time. It is hard work, especially when you have to do it alone, but if you ever need anything you only have to knock on the door. You seem like a decent fella. Matured too quick for a lad your age, but there's nothing to be done against that. You'll learn how to survive fast enough, I think. You have a job?"

It took a moment for Harry to process the huge amount of kindness he had been given these past few hours, but he quickly tried to form words to answer the question.

"Er- No, sir. I do not have a job yet. I do have a little money saved, but that will only be enough for a little while, I think. I also have Tom to think about," he said while looking over at Tom again with a strange feeling in his gut.

"Well, every now and then a new spot gets available in the factories in town. Billy, me son, could ask around and get you a job in no time. As for you boy-"

"Well, I would love to look after him when-"

"No," interrupted Jack his wife softly but firmly. It shattered Harry's hope immediately. He had to admit that he was actually kinda hoping Ellen could take care of Tom when Harry had to work. That way he didn't have to worry about the child and Tom would be in kind, experienced hands.

Ellen opened her mouth to protest, but relented when Jack simply put up a hand to silence her.

"You have already enough trouble with raising our own children, Ellen. Letting someone else's child in here every day is bound to make the children jealous and more rebellious than they already are. There is no room for him, how nice a child he may be. I don't want him here. That's the end of that."

Jack sat back and drank a bit of his ale, before turning towards Harry again.

"I'm sorry lad, but you'll have to find someplace else for your boy."

"I understand," said Harry quietly.

And the thing was; he really did. Dropping Tom off every day somewhere was not what he was supposed to do. That way Tom would only see Harry shortly in the morning and in the evening. Harry would have absolutely no time to spend time with Tom and the child would more accurately be raised by someone else instead of Harry. That way Tom could very easily follow the same path he had chosen before.

But then _what?_ Harry had to work, otherwise he and Tom would be living on the streets within weeks. But he also couldn't exactly take Tom with him to work.

_What is it that you had in mind, Professor? What is it that you want me to_ do?

* * *

After saying goodnight to Ellen and Jack, Harry returned to his little house and put Tom to bed. Ellen had told him that there should be some kind of drawer underneath the bed, in which babies were supposed to sleep. Harry had quickly discovered she was right and had stuffed the mattress from the other bedroom in it with folded clothing as a make-shift little pillow. Ellen had also given him a few cloths that were meant to be used as diapers and Harry hadn't been too happy when he heard they were supposed to be washed thoroughly and used again after use.

With a deep sigh Harry pulled his suitcase towards him and lighted a small oil lamp to be able to see something in the dark of the room.

After opening it, Harry spotted a set of clean clothing amongst several papers and a sack with Muggle money. But the thing that truly got his attention after picking up the clothes to put in the wardrobe was an envelope with his name written on it. He immediately recognized with a pang in his heart the familiar long, curly handwriting.

His heart began to beat very quickly as he pulled out the envelope with trembling fingers and stared at it for a few seconds. He had been incredibly tired, but upon seeing the letter he was wide awake. This was what he was hoping for – an thorough explanation from his old mentor with instructions on what Harry was supposed to be doing. Dumbledore hadn't just thrown him into the deep water after all. Maybe this letter would have an answer for all his questions and doubts.

Harry glanced beneath him at the open drawer with Tom in it before opening the envelope with clumsy hands.

His eyes shot over the paper greedily and quickly, but as the letter progressed Harry began to read slower and slower and he held his breath unconsciously. A frown settled in on his face and when he finished the letter all energy seemed to float out of Harry's body and he let himself fall back onto the bed with the letter still clutched in his right hand. Staring up at the dark ceiling Harry was tempted to both scream and cry, but he did not have the energy for either. Instead he kept looking up at the ceiling until his exhausted eyes finally fell shut and he again fell into a restless sleep full of personal demons.

What had he _done_.

* * *

**Thanks for all the kind reviews! They are very much appreciated. I want to apologize for the very short chapters, but English isn't my first language so it takes a lot of time for me to write even short chapters like the ones in this story. Hopefully you guys don't mind. **


	5. Getting a job

It was very busy at the solicitation desk of the Daily Prophet. Witches and wizards all stood with grim faces in a long queue and Harry quickly saw that he wasn't the only person with a child in his arms.

The main office of the Daily Prophet. Harry had never been there before. Now he could see why.

The building was grey and moody on both the outside as the inside. A few moving posters were plastered on the walls with broadly smiling people on it exclaiming how happy they are that they are working at the Daily Prophet. A man with a bald head and thin lips sat behind the desk reading the application forms everyone had filled in. The longest time he looked at a form was about a minute; most of the time he would you quickly scan it with his eyes before shaking his head and yelling; "Next!"

The good part of that was that Harry did not have to wait long in the queue. Within ten minutes it was his turn and he stepped towards the desk, hoisting Tom further up in his arms. The baby was awake and was sucking on one of his fists while looking around with his cool eyes. Harry had stopped worrying about the lack of crying from Tom a long time ago. It just seemed strangely fitting for him to be a quiet, brooding baby. Harry would not be surprised if the little Tom was already developing sociopathic tendencies. Something he, Harry, was supposed to prevent from happening. But he had all the time in the world for that. Nowhere else to go.

The man behind the desk barely met his eyes while snapping his fingers, clearly expecting to be handed yet another form.

"Excuse me, sir, but I don't exactly have a form. I was sent here by Albus Dumbledore."

Harry tried to say it quietly and discreet, but that was kind of difficult when he was in a room full of people who were not talking to each other. Behind himself he heard them start to whisper upon hearing the name. It was kind of difficult for Harry to remember that Dumbledore was already the famous and respected wizard that he knew from his own time, only much younger and of course alive.

The man behind the desk looked up at last and met Harry's eyes for a few long seconds. Just when Harry was about to shuffle awkwardly backwards towards the door the wizard finally spoke up.

"Of course. He already spoke to me about you," he said in a careful voice while looking Harry up and down curiously.

Harry nodded. He knew that thanks to the letter he had found in his suitcase. For some reason Dumbledore wanted him to work here at the Daily Prophet, the very same corrupt newspaper that called Harry a liar when Voldemort came back and that was strictly controlled by the Ministry of Magic. There was a lot he did not understand from Dumbledore's letter, but he just had to accept it and go with it. It was the only thing Harry had as a guide to raise Tom in which was hopefully the right way. Dumbledore believed it could be done, but Harry had to see it first before believing it.

The bald man picked up the remaining papers on his desk and handed them over. Harry suddenly understood that the reason why the man had refused everyone was because the job was already reserved for him.

The desk wizard stood up and said in a loud voice;

"Congratulations b- I mean, sir. You got the job. Sorry ladies and gentlemen, all the jobs have been given. Have a good day."

The bald man Disapparated and Harry suddenly got very conscious of the fact that there were dozens of angry people between him and the door. With his head held low he quietly moved past everyone and felt like the only reason why no one was hexing was because he held a child in his arms. For the first time in his life Harry was glad to have Voldemort close to him.

It was a strange feeling.

* * *

After greeting Ellen and a few of his other neighbors, Harry closed the door of his house behind him and laid Tom down on a makeshift crib of blankets on the ground. After making sure Tom wouldn't accidentally strangle himself with them, Harry took a seat at the kitchen table and looked the papers over for what felt like the hundredth time.

General adviser. That was his job. Giving advice to the dozens of wizard and witches who sent a letter each week to the Daily Prophet with questions and problems and more. And he, Harry Potter, had to pretend to be an expert. He didn't know whether to laugh or not. It was the most idiotic job he had ever heard of, but at least now he understood why Dumbledore wanted him specifically to work for the newspaper; he got to work from home. Each day except Sunday he would get a pile of letters he had to respond to. If there were any interesting ones or type problems that a lot of people seemed to have, Harry was supposed to send them to the Daily Prophet so they could be published. The catch was that Harry had to pay for his own parchment, ink and quills. He would not receive any compensation for them. He did not know exactly how expensive that all would be, but he could already figure that there would only just be enough left to buy food for him and Tom. He would have to put away some money each week too for emergencies or for when he had to buy new clothes for Tom, who would grow incredibly every month.

Harry sat back in his chair and rubbed his tired eyes with his knuckles. Sleep did not come to him very easily at night and if it did he would have the strangest dreams.

He looked over at Tom who had fallen asleep.

_It will be so strange when he grows old enough to speak with me. Would he love me? Could he capable of that after all or was he already doomed from the moment he got born?_

* * *

_A few months later_

Harry was not prepared when Tom actually spoke his first recognizable word after weeks of babbling.

He was busy writing answers to the letters the readers of the Daily Prophet had sent. Tom laid beside him in his makeshift crib and was chewing on a special toy Harry bought for him after getting bitten for the fourth time by Tom's developing teeth. He had grown a lot the past few months and there was now a dark tuff of hair on Tom's head. Sometimes, when Harry looked too long at him, he could see the Tom Riddle he had seen in Dumbledore's memory; the day Tom had found he was special. On the other hand Harry also sometimes caught himself grinning like an idiot when listening to the nonsense sounds Tom was making. That was before he realized what he was doing and at _who_ he was doing it.

Needless to say Harry had very mixed feelings about Tom. However, he had gotten used to life in the troubled neighborhood of post World War I London. It wasn't easy, but at least he had enough money to keep himself and Tom alive. His job was boring and repetitive but did not take a lot of physical energy. He was much better off than all the men and women working in the mines and factories each day.

Still, it was a very boring life. It didn't come as a very big shock to him, since he lived with the Dursley's for far too many years, but it was still something he had to get used to.

Harry was just finishing his response to a witch called Betty McDower, who needed advice on how to make her husband confess to her that he's cheating, when it happened.

"Ha-ly"

Harry's fingers went numb and his quill fell on the parchment. The ink left a streak across the sentence in which he calmly explained that her husband talking to his female coworker did not necessarily mean that he was cheating on her. He did not really notice that though.

"Ly- Haly. Ka!"

Harry turned his head quickly to the ground. The toy lay discarded beside Tom. As if the baby suddenly knew how to pronounce a word and just had to say it immediately. He was staring right up at Harry.

As the weeks went by, Tom's gaze began to be more focused on specific things, with the main thing being Harry's face. The child didn't really look Harry straight in the eye most of the times, but when he did Harry never could help the cold shiver that ran down his spine. He may have known those eyes only really when they had turned red after Voldemort's rising at the graveyard, but they still disturbed him greatly.

And now… this. It was only to be expected. It wasn't like Harry was constantly urging Tom to say 'dada' to him. The past few months Harry had began to talk more to Tom, sometimes without him really realizing it, but most of the times Harry just liked talking about nothing when he was locked up for hours at home writing letters. And when he did the talking he would talk about himself in the third person to Tom; 'Harry is going to make dinner now. Go to sleep, okay?'

So yeah. He shouldn't be that surprised that Tom would try to say the one thing he heard the most. That was how it worked; baby's in the beginning just repeat words, right?

"Good," he said to the child. He quickly scraped his throat when he heard how rough it sounded. "Very good. Harry. Yes, you're right, that's me. Yes."

Tom stuck his little fist in his mouth, which had two tiny teeth already. He made a gargling sound in the back of his throat as response. Then Tom looked away from Harry and focused on trying to chew the toy in half using only the few teeth he had.

Harry slowly turned back to his work and saw the streak he had made. As in a trance he pulled out his wand. He had not used magic a lot lately, but he wasn't thinking clearly. He tried to erase the stain, but because he was so unfocused he accidentally erased the whole writing on the piece of parchment. Harry blinked and dipped his quill in the ink again. He stared at the parchments for ten full minutes before he realized what he was doing.

Rubbing his eyes, Harry slowly got up and sat down on the floor besides Tom. The baby looked at him for a second before returning his attention fully to chewing. Harry could already see a third tooth was coming through.

Yes. This was supposed to happen _some_day. He just didn't expect it to be this day. Tom still seemed so young, and yet…

_It's going to go very fast from now on, _Harry thought numbly. _Tomorrow he'll walk. The day after that he will be talking in full sentences. Then one day he will go to the Muggle school and then-_

Harry closed his eyes. His head spun from the thoughts and the worries and the fear, and he did not know what to feel about all this. He could not explain this warm feeling inside of him when he heard Tom's first word. This feeling that felt a bit too close to affection.

What was Dumbledore's aim? What could Harry do that the Headmaster or someone else, someone _better_ couldn't do?

He did not know. He simply didn't.

Harry stretched out his hand towards Tom and immediately his little finger got grapped by slimy tiny fingers. Tom's grip was remarkably strong as he tried to pull the finger from Harry's hand. He made another sound that pierced the vast silence of the room. Harry looked at Tom and Tom looked at Harry.

In the end, Harry couldn't remember which of them looked away first.

**Thanks for all the reviews! I'm glad you guys like it. To answer the questions in one of the reviews: there will be frequent time jumps from now on. Also, I know that Harry isn't exactly a ball of sunshine tight now, but you have to understand that he really is very unhappy and uncertain about the situation he is in now. I can guarantee however that he will not be like that for the whole of the story. There will be character development. :)**


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